


Forgotten

by TheWriterinFlannel



Series: Black Panther Prompts via Tumblr [7]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Angst, Black!Reader - Freeform, F/M, I hope you like it, M'Baku and you have kids, M'Baku doesn't understand what a hard fucking is, Makeup Sex, Making Up, My First Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-28
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2019-04-28 21:55:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14458575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWriterinFlannel/pseuds/TheWriterinFlannel
Summary: dlg4life asked: M’Baku is so busy that the reader has not seen him in over a week. He leaves before the reader wakes up and gets home super late after the reader is asleep. The reader is feeling unloved and moves to a guest room thinking M’Baku doesn’t want them around. M’Baku has a lot to make up for. If you would like to add smut that would be good and of course a happy ending please. Also if you could add that M’Baku misses their anniversary or the readers birthday.





	Forgotten

You sat at the small dinner table — the one made specifically you, M’Baku, and your children — eating. You daughter, the little monster that she was, was demolishing her food, stealing little bits of food from her brothers. You would have laughed at the site if you weren’t seething, practically foaming at the mouth. M’Baku still wasn’t home; the sun had set almost an hour ago and he still wasn’t home.

 

As a member of the new Wakandan Royal Council, M’Baku was extremely busy. Along with his usual meetings among the Jabari, M’Baku now had to meet regularly with T’Challa and the other Wakandan chieftain. At first, you thought it was great; M’Baku was finally making moves to integrate the Jabari into modern Wakanadan society and trade. He was gifted Kimoyo beads for you and your guards and gained access to vital technology that could help the fishermen and farmers of the Jabari.

 

But now, now you never saw him anymore.

 

“Mama, when is Baba coming home? There is something I want to show him.” You looked up at your son, eyebrow raised. “What is it that you want to show him?” Your son looked hesitant to speak. Out of all of your children, Lwazi spent the most time with his father; they went fishing together, played sports whenever M’Baku had free time. The two shared a lot of secrets between them, and as a mother, you respected that bond. “He’s working with the King,” you explained.

 

Lwazi grumbled, looking back at his plate of food. Mabhuti tied to comfort his older brother but was shrugged off and ignored. “I’ll just wait until he gets home,” Lwazi sighed.

  


Lwazi waited, and he waited, and he waited. The poor boy tried to stay up as long as he could but sleep took him swiftly after the fourth hour. You looked sadly at your son, his body curled uncomfortably in one of the chairs in M’Baku’s office; this was out of hand.

 

Lwazi awoke with a start when you shook him. “Is Baba home yet?” The boy looked excited; he was still eager to tell M’Baku whatever his secret was. Your frown deepened, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Baba has yet to return.” You watched helplessly as your son’s excitement shifted to sadness, then finally a tired anger. The boy pushed himself out of the chair, brushing by you quickly. “I’ll be in my room,” he said before leaving quietly.

 

You plopped down in the chair your son had just vacated with an angry sigh. M’Baku was going to get it when he came home.

  


M’Baku seemed shocked to see you awake, sitting in the throne room, when he returned home.

 

“My Love, why are you up at this hour?”

 

You narrowed your eyes at your husband, “I could ask the same about you.” M’Baku looked as if he was going to answer, but you steamrolled over him. “What is the point of these damned Kimoyo beads if you don’t use them to communicate with us. Did you know that Lwazi waited up for you? He was so excited to tell you whatever the hell it was he wanted to say! But, no, you weren’t here. Why didn’t you say anything, call him during a break in the meeting or something.”

 

M’Baku looked defeated; he had no answer to any of those questions and he knew it.

 

“Do better, M’baku,” was all you said before storming off to your bedroom.

 

“I will,” he called weakly for behind you.

  
  


M’baku stayed true to his promise. He spent more time using the Kimoyo beads to speak to your children. Your daughter, Khuthala, loved her new accessory, especially when it allowed her to see her baba’s face.

 

Things were good now; the kids were happy, Lwazi got to see his father daily, almost like nothing had changed. But a lot _had_ changed. M’Baku had changed. In the rare moments when the hulking man was home, he wasn’t with you. He spent an hour or two with the kids, then he would lock himself in his office for the night.

 

“Maybe it’s me,” you thought, looking at your body in the mirror. You didn’t look much different than you did before the whole fiasco with T’Challa and the outsider; your skin was still vibrant, your teeth white… okay, your hair may be a bit of a mess right now, but that shouldn't have been a problem.

 

_Maybe he met someone else._

 

You stepped away from the mirror quickly. No, he couldn’t have met someone new; M”Baku loved you and that wasn’t going to change any time soon.

 

 _But what if it already has?_ Your fear heightened; M’Baku left in the dark hours of the morning, whether it’s to go to his office or to meet with T’Challa in the city, and always came home late at night. Not to mention that he doesn’t even sleep in the same bed as you anymore. This is exactly what your bitter aunt was talking about: _Never marry at all, Y/N. Men marry when they’re tired._

  
  


It’s confirmed, M’Baku had met someone new. It’s the only explanation for him missing your anniversary.

 

You had woken up that morning surprised to see (and feel) M’Baku in bed, his thick arm wrapped around you as he pressed his face further into your breasts. He looked tired, worn from all his work. Smiling at the large man, you try your best to wiggle out of the bed without waking him; you were going to make this man the best breakfast he’s ever had.

 

It didn’t take long for you to whip up an easy breakfast stew, filling the kitchen with the smell of East African spices. You knew M’Baku would love it; his mother had explained that it was his favorite meal when she taught you how to make it. Your three monsters were running around the kitchen, eager to help you prepare breakfast.

 

Just as you were scooping the stew into bowls, M’Baku walked in. He wasn’t dressed in his flowing linen pants or his soft fur robe; no, he was in his business attire, a patterned blazer with slacks and even his little Kofia. _Are we going out,_ you thought.

 

“Baba, where are you going?” Khuthala was wrapped around her father’s legs, pulling on the pocket of his slacks.

 

“Work,” he answered simply.

 

You froze, the ladle of stew hovering over the bowl beneath it.

 

“Repeat that.”

 

“Y/N, I’m going to work.”

 

“But don’t you have something important to do today,” you asked, trying to give him a hint. “Yes, Y/N. I have to meet with the fishermen today, thanks for reminding me.” And just like that, he was out the door.

 

He forgot.

 

_He forgot._

  
  


It didn’t take much effort to move out of the bedroom you shared with M’Baku and into the guest room, probably a day or two. Nevertheless, M’Baku didn’t notice. He came and left as he pleased and you could never stay awake long enough to talk to him when he got home.

 

Lwazi, however, did notice.

 

“Mama, where are you moving to? Are you leaving us? Is it because Baba isn’t here? Please don’t go! Don’t be like Baba. Please don’t go.” it took all of five seconds for your son’s words to register, “No, baby. Mama’s not leaving you.” You slowly sat on the floor, pulling the boy onto your lap. “Mama’s never going to leave you, sweetheart. Never.” The boy nuzzled into your neck, arms gripping you tight. “I’m never going to leave you," you whispered again.

 

This was it, you were tired of being ignored, you were tired of being forgotten. You completely understood why Lwazi felt abandoned, why _you_ felt abandoned. You needed to fix this, o that night, you set an alarm on those damned Kimoyo beads; you were going to talk to M’Baku, no ifs, ands, or buts.

  
  


“Goodnight, M’Baku.”

 

If you weren’t so angry, you would have laughed at how frightened M’Baku looked when he stepped into the kitchen.

 

“Hello, Y/N. What are you doing up?” Your husband pulled up a stool and sat across from you. “Waiting for you,” you announced. M’Baku looked confused and you took it as a sign to keep talking.

 

“Are you seeing another woman?”

 

Bam! Straight to the point.

 

“What! Y/N, of course not. Why would you think I was?” “Because you’re never home, M’Baku. Lwazi thinks that you’ve left us because he hasn’t seen you in a month.”

 

M’Baku scoffed, “Of course he’s seen me. I call him every day.”

 

To Hanuman, you wanted to punch this man his face, he was so oblivious. “I mean in person, M’Baku. Your son hasn’t hugged you in a month. You haven’t touched me for longer than that. This isn’t just about the children, M’Baku. This is about me and how you treat me as your wife.”

 

“I don’t treat you any kind of way, Y/N.”

 

“That’s the problem, love. You’re never home to treat me at all. Did you even notice that I moved out of our room?”

 

“What?!”

 

“Exactly my point. You forgot our anniversary, so I moved out of our room. ‘Baku, baby, I’m not happy anymore. I’m not-” the sentence is cut off my your sob. This was too much, too much emotion, too much release all at once. You got up to leave, but M’Baku grabbed your arm and pulled you into his chest.

 

“Oh, my love. I am sorry; I’m so so sorry. I’ve left you unsatisfied, haven’t I?”

 

You nodded childishly, face still pressed against the beat of his heart. “Let me make it up to you,” he offered. “How?” “Come to our room and see, eh?”

  
  


M’Baku’s lips on yours feels new and invigorating; you could kiss this man forever. You gripped his shoulders hard, trying your hardest to pull him impossibly closer. You wanted this to last forever; you never wanted to let him go.

 

M’Baku laid you back onto the bed of furs, his touch gentle by desperate. He steps back to pull off his shirt, and you stare in awe. You’ve missed this: his body, the sheer size of this man.

 

You bit off a whimper and sit up quickly to run your hands tantalizingly over M’Baku’s bare chest. You moan as you feel the growl M’Baku emits vibrate in his chest. “Don’t tease, love.”

 

You look up at M’Baku’s face, smirking. “What this?” You run your hands over the large man’s chest, tweaking one of his nipples as you go along. “Yes,” he hisses out. You kneel on the mattress so you can get closer, tease M’Baku more, but the tight grip on your hips stops you short. You look into M’Baku’s eyes, trying to figure out what he’s thinking, but all you see is pure lust and desire.

 

“M’baku,” you moan out as he tightens his grip.

 

He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, nipping lightly at the skin. You moan again and M’Baku’s hands slip lower, smoothing over your ass. When he doesn’t move, you groan impatiently. “What’s wrong love,” M’Baku teased. You pout at him, pushing at his shoulders.

 

“No, sweetheart, tell me what you want.”

 

“Fuck me already,” you whisper. “I-I want you to stop going so slow. I wanna be fucked, ‘Baku. we can make love in the morning.”

 

You could feel you husband smirk into your neck. “Want me to bend you over,” he asked huskily. “You want me to take you fast, fuck you until you can remember anything but me, eh?” “Mmhm, make me yours, ‘Baku. Make sure I don’t forget.”

 

From there, things escalated quickly. The two of you fumbled out of your clothes, eager to touch and be touched. You both sat up against the strong, Jabari wood headboard, propped up with tons of pillows and M’baku pulled you to sit in between his legs. You could feel the hardness of his cock against your back, but when you make a move to touch him, M’Baku stopped you. “This isn’t about me, Y/N. Just lean back, love. Let me do this.”

 

“This” meant spread your supple legs and running his thick fingers over your slit. When he finally pressed a finger into you, you gripped his forearm, leaning your head back against his shoulder. “‘Baku, oh ‘Baku. Don’t stop, sweetheart.” Pressing a kiss to the shell of your ear, M’Baku complied. He fingered you until you began to babble incoherently. His hand was glistening down to the wrist, soaking in your need.

 

You moaned sadly when M’Baku finally pulled his hand away from you. “‘Baku, I gotta cum. You gotta make me cum.”

 

He kissed you silent, “Don’t worry, love. I promise you will.” with that, M’Baku rolled you both onto your sides, your back pressed to the solid expanse of his chest. Hooking one of your legs over his elbow, M’baku lined up with your hole, pressing into the wetness of your pussy with one thrust. You moaned, long and loud.

 

Finally, this is what you had wanted; this is what you’ve been craving all this time.

 

You only got louder as M’Baku found his rhythm, pumping into you just like you wanted. “Fuck,” you moaned, “M’Baku, yes. Just like that, just like that.” M’Baku grunted noisily into your ear, kissing whatever skin he could get his lips on. It took you a while to realize that he was speaking in between the kisses. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I‘ll never make you feel forgotten again. Never, love, never.”

 

Your orgasm snuck up on you, racing out of you with a shout. M’Baku fucked you through the whole thing, whispering about how tight you felt when you came. The dirty whispers only spurred your orgasm on, shaking you down with the aftershocks. The extra convulsions pushed M’Baku over the edge. With a final thrust, he pushed all the way into you, releasing a flood of cum, and moaned into your ear.

 

You both laid there for a while, you drifting off and M’Baku whispering sweet nothings.

 

The last thing you heard was M’Baku’s deep voice, so soft and sweet:

 

“I love you, Y/N. Never forget that.”

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr if you want! My inbox is dry af, so don't be scared to leave a request
> 
>  
> 
> And don't be scared to point out any mistakes


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